The gladiator arena at the Achaean city of Krisa was not the largest in the Empire - far from it, in fact. It was a fairly humble arena, full of sand, like most all the others. Its walls were high enough to prevent most creatures from escaping, but it couldn't hold some of the monsters and animals other arenas occasionally liked to boast.

Right now, however, the arena was empty, including all the seats lining its sides. The gladiators of the School of Valens - Gunther Hrald, Tuukka, Jack, Sir Kendrick Bludlust, and Artyom Elric - were still in their respective cages. They had all been led inside, one by one, in chains. Once in their cells, the chains were removed and the doors shut and locked. Each of them had their own cell, though they were adjacent to each other and could reach one another through the bars. Artyom had been placed right next to a door, whereas the cells on Gunther's left side held some local gladiatorial slaves, mostly humans.

They were currently being held underneath the arena, in a place that smelled like dirt and blood. Torches on the opposite wall provided some sparse, orange-ish illumination. This was the first time any of them had seen each other: they had all been recently purchased by the gladiator school, and this was their first time seeing each other.

Some of them could hear the faint sounds of voices and movement elsewhere in the arena, overhead and down some of the halls, at the end of which stood heavy, wooden doors with a small window made of iron bars. The arena was being prepared for combat - and soon they would be taken out into the light of day to fight for the entertainment of the masses.

But, for now, they had time to find out who their future teammates - or, possibly, enemies - would be.

((Welcome to Morituri! Since this group is very different from most Errant groups, it has a few different rules and it's run quite differently. Here's how it all works:

You will be working together through a long series of gladiator games. There will be approximately 3-4 fights in each city, until you move on to another city's arena. Each arena is progressively harder than the last, so don't be disappointed if these first few fights seem too easy. The final arena zone is Caltha, where you will build up to the final boss-fight of the RP.

Each fight calls for a different number of players, so not all players will be in the arena at any given time. Typically, fights will have 2-3, sometimes 4, players. Some fights will include all players. Some will mix and match you on different sides. A Luck roll will determine which players get to be in which fight. For the easier fights, the higher Luck roll you achieve, the higher chance you have of participating. For the harder fights, the lower your Luck roll, the higher chance you have of participating. Players who participated in one fight generally won't participate in the next fight following immediately after (though this might not always be the case; we'll see how things go). If that didn't make sense, ask me to clarify in the OOC thread.

The fights will (mostly) be pretty brief, so as to keep things moving. However, they are fights, and your life is on the line. Play it smart according to your character's stats and talents, and post actively, and you might still make it out alive.

If you do not post actively - especially if you are currently one of the players in a fight - then your character will be killed.

IMPORTANT NOTE: Crowd favor is a very important game mechanic here! Listen up.

Crowd favor is something you very much want to earn and maintain. Crowd favor can be lost very easily if you upset them. Crowd favor carries over from arena to arena, and it'll be VERY important in the long run - consider this a fair warning - so keep that in mind as you play! You'll be given some difficult decisions involving crowd favor, however. That is your character's call to make.

If you have good crowd favor, you will get a small boost to morale, improving your will saving throws. Most importantly, however: if you lose a fight, having the crowd's favor will make them much, much more likely to ask the victor to spare your life. Not all enemy gladiators will listen to the crowd, but this gives you a much higher chance of survival, if you do lose a battle. If you do not have crowd favor, then the results of whether they ask for you to live or die can be mixed. If you have negative crowd favor, they will probably ask the victor to kill you if you are defeated.

If you have any questions about the way any of this stuff works, just ask me in the OOC thread.))

Jack startled to the unexpected sound. The lack of more pronounced noises besides his own voice had put him on edge ever since being brought to the cells of the arena and as he shuffled to recover from his surprise he turned to the noise. There, from the doors who he knew lead to halls leading to eventual freedom, one after another, guards escorted four individuals. And what group it was!

The first, a large man-bear -verrbjorn, Jack corrected himself- was perhaps the most spectacular of them. Standing at Nine feat tall and carrying himself with noble air, straight back and all, he made a spectacular sight indeed. Imperative, Jack mused, to make friends with this one. Wouldn't want to be on his bad side should I meet him in the arena. He also noted the particular gleam to the verrbjorns eyes, this creature was most certainly more intelligent than most.

Second was a human who him too had the air of nobles around him, despite his brutal appearance. Further yet, the man too seemed to be of the clever kind. ​A kindred soul perhaps in this one. Maybe that I can convince this northerner to take a more direct route for freedom rather than a long and arduous struggle through the arena.

Third was a man who seemed to be made entirely made of muscle and scars. Heavy chains bound him, no doubt a testament to the mans defiance against former masters. But where the previous two had held the spark of great minds, this man didn't seem like the thinking type, to put it nicely. A weapon to be pointed against my foes. All I need to do is direct that potent rage against a worthy target.

Last came a man who's harsh life was apparent in his skin. Tattoos and scars all marking him as a slave with deformations brought upon by growth showed him to be abused from a young and early age. And Humans think themselves better than goblins. At least we are honest about hating each other. He predicted little problem recruiting him for an eventual escape, at least once the common animosity had been worked through.

Among the entire group it seemed at first glance that there were hatred for the Acheans, a fact that made Jack grin as the prisoners were locked in their cells. Oh, yes. These are all allies in the making, he thought as he eagerly waited for the guards to leave. As soon as the heavy door closed behind them he spoke up.

"Greetings, and welcome to the arena! The spectacular monument to this supposedly civilized lands unrelenting blood lust. It would seem that you lot and I are to be brothers in arms and chains. I suggest that we all introduce ourselves so that we may know our brothers better. I am, as you can see, a goblin from the grounds beneath the jagged edge and not to long ago I was caught by dwarves who sold me to do battle in the arena. The name is Jack, nice to meet you all!"

Not that that was anything new. The northman slave was pretty much driven by raw emotion by this point in his life. Nothing else could have allowed him to survive being a slave his entire life, and still have a will to gain freedom over being forced into servitude for even longer. Many a lesser man would have broken long before now, if they were in his shoes.

And this whole gladiator mess he’d ended up in? This was just the latest in a long line of hurdles he was more than ready to crash his way through. Hrald looked over the other prisoners that had been dragged in, and looked grim. If he had to kill these men and… beasts, then he would, but if he was forced fight with them… Gunther mulled it over. They were all considered monsters, now, so he supposed he might as well battle alongside the hulking bearman in the cell next to him.

If they were told to fight each other, though, Hrald knew who would end up on top: him.

The bear looked broken, and the other prisoners were a mix of mad men, glory-hogs, monsters, and other such broken beings. Gunther felt his confidence was well-placed, given the competition. Especially when one such possible competitor - one of the monsters, a goblin - piped up from his cage down the line.

"Greetings, and welcome to the arena! The spectacular monument to this supposedly civilized lands unrelenting blood lust. It would seem that you lot and I are to be brothers in arms and chains. I suggest that we all introduce ourselves so that we may know our brothers better. I am, as you can see, a goblin from the grounds beneath the jagged edge and not to long ago I was caught by dwarves who sold me to do battle in the arena. The name is Jack, nice to meet you all!"

Gunther snorted, seeming more akin to the bearman in the cage adjacent to him than an ordinary man, His toughened physique and many scars helped only helped that image.

“Greetings my rumpe,” Gunther growled, surging to his feet. “I’d like to give these Imperial rykk a taste of my fists in return.” His eyes narrowed, and a violent grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “The cowards would start running before I got more than one punch in, I bet.” He sneered, cracking his knuckles.

He glanced at the others, sizing them up, again. “Don’t fancy you lot like the Imps any more than I do, huh?” The northman slave asked. He didn’t have to ask the two monsters, considering their hatred of all things good, decent, and civilized (or at least human, as the Achaean scum clearly weren’t any of those things) was a given.

"Greetings my rumpe," the man of muscle and scars growled, surging to his feet. “I’d like to give these Imperial rykk a taste of my fists in return.” His eyes narrowed, and a violent grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “The cowards would start running before I got more than one punch in, I bet.” He sneered, cracking his knuckles.

Jack couldn't help but mirror the barbarians grin, though for different reason than the prospect of slaying Achaeans. Oh yes, this will be easier than I thought, he couldn't help to think. All I need is a complete plan for escape, then I can promise him both his direct freedom and the blood of Achaeans in one go. A no-lose situation for both of us, 'less we get killed of course.

"You are right, of course! Those spewing infants of imperials haven't got a clue what they got in to when they threw you in here," Jack chuckled as he leaned against his bars. "I am absolutely certain that before this is over, you'll wade knee deep in their blood." He nodded to the barbarian through the bars before adding conspicuously in a lower voice; "Perhaps sooner than any of us think."

Jack then turned to address the massive verrbjorn. He could very well be the critical asset to any attempted escape so getting on his good side would be imperative. "So, verrbjorn, how did you end up here, so far in to the human lands? They caught you too and dragged you here for their amusement?" Jack was vaguely aware of the scarred man addressing the other two humans and kept an ear pealed, though most of his attention was on the bear man across the hall.

"Greetings, and welcome to the arena! The spectacular monument to this supposedly civilized lands unrelenting blood lust. It would seem that you lot and I are to be brothers in arms and chains. I suggest that we all introduce ourselves so that we may know our brothers better. I am, as you can see, a goblin from the grounds beneath the jagged edge and not to long ago I was caught by dwarves who sold me to do battle in the arena. The name is Jack, nice to meet you all!"

"This guy is waaaaay too chipper to be a Goblin." Kendrick said before saying "Howdya Do? I'm Sir Kendrick Bludlust."

He then tried to smile friendly, but the flickering torchlight made it look like he was sneering insainly.

“Greetings my rumpe, I’d like to give these Imperial rykk a taste of my fists in return. The cowards would start running before I got more than one punch in, I bet.”

"Yeah," the Knight agreed, musing over his past kills "There was this one time I killed a Imperial Man in the Arena. Squealed like a stuck pig before I-"

"How is it, that you have become a pit fighter? I do not expect you will fare well against those like me or the man with flaming hair,"

"This guy is waaaaay too chipper to be a Goblin." the noble like man said before saying "Howdya Do? I'm Sir Kendrick Bludlust."

"Nice to meet you too Sir Kendrick! But what do you suggest that I am," Jack laughed, "a dragon perhaps." Jack then swapped to drakonian and exclaimed "Look at me! I'm a dragon!"

As to the goblins inquiry, the massive beast man turned, a look of confusion briefly crossing his visage before looking down, spotting Jack. The smile Jack had been wielding quickly faltered as the giant snorted and shook his head before remarking:

"Before I came here, I killed many of your race and ate them for snacks," he told the goblin. "All they were good for. Light snacks between meals. Not enough meat on the bones." He laughed. Or rather, Jack thought he laughed. It was difficult to tell with the verrbjorn and to Jack it sounded almost like he was having a fit. As to his remark, Jack was definitely not pleased with the clear hostility of it though he wasn't particularly fazed by his claims. Goblins generally hold little love for their own kind and Jack held less than most.

"I hope you didn't get food poisoning of them, I can't say that I'd be surprised if you did. Though I do hope some of them were part of the filth I used to command, no good cowards they were." He grumbled and added. "Probably tasted bad too."

"Before I came here, I killed my own kin in a northern pit," The great beast continued. "I removed their heads and crushed their skulls. My race, and other beastfolk. I did not enjoy it." Ah, good, resentment. Now that is something I can work with!

The verrbjorn clenched a fist, and punched at the air. Then he turned and let the fist fly at the cell wall, sending metallic echoes throughout the cells. "How is it," he asked after acting out his rage., "that you have become a pit fighter? I do not expect you will fare well against those like me or the man with flaming hair," he gestured toward the Northman.

Now it was also clear to Jack that while the verrbjorn was intelligent, he also suffered from an attention deficiency. "I already told you," he said, agitated. "I got caught by dwarves who sold me on to the Achaeans. As for how I'll fare in the arena, battle is not all about brawn and brute strength. Combat is about deception. And besides, I don't plan on staying."

"Have you got a name or shall I just call you Big. If you rack your memory you'll find I've already told you mine."

Artyom looked over the group of gladiators. Rough necks and hulking masses of flesh. He was no match for the other combatants. It was true he had taken his share of beatings and attacks in his life, his skin was a shining beacon of it. The tattoos indicating his life as a slave, and the whip lashes and scars.

"Greetings, and welcome to the arena! The spectacular monument to this supposedly civilized lands unrelenting blood lust. It would seem that you lot and I are to be brothers in arms and chains. I suggest that we all introduce ourselves so that we may know our brothers better. I am, as you can see, a goblin from the grounds beneath the jagged edge and not to long ago I was caught by dwarves who sold me to do battle in the arena. The name is Jack, nice to meet you all!"

"Um... Hello... Little green one." Artyom said, quite confused on how the Goblin was so cheery. Its like he doesn't know that we're going to be tearing at each other's throats in a few hours, or days, or maybe weeks... How long will it take for those damn aristocrats to muster the guts to kill me? And end my life? He scowled. His life was a train wreck. And becoming a gladiator was just another job as a slave. He could only hope he died in the ring, and would die with courage. Not on his knees.

He stood up from his seat on whatever he had for bedding and looked left and right. Noticing that another Northman was a brother-in-bonds. He gripped the bars of his cell and spoke in Northern tongue. ((Northrim Knowledge)) "Brother, may the gods give you strength, and let us leave this place as free men.."

((I guess anyone with Northrim Knowledge should be able to also hear what Artyom said.))

"You are right, of course! Those spewing infants of imperials haven't got a clue what they got in to when they threw you in here," Jack chuckled as he leaned against his bars. "I am absolutely certain that before this is over, you'll wade knee deep in their blood." He nodded to the barbarian through the bars before adding conspicuously in a lower voice; "Perhaps sooner than any of us think."

Something about the goblin’s cheerful agreement with everything Gunther was saying struck the northman as suspicious and irritable, but it wasn’t like the little monster could do anything to him regardless of whether this was trickery of some sort or not. Not like he had any reason to do so, anyway. Well, besides being a monster, and thus having an innate need to kill and destroy anything civilized, or so Hrald had heard.

“Perhaps…” Gunther growled, leaning against the bars of his own cage and giving the far wall of the room they were all in a distant look

Some other slave began to reminisce about some past kill, before the bear-man began to speak, before finally saying a comment that made Hrald awake from his stupor.

"How is it," Tuukka asked the goblin, "that you have become a pit fighter? I do not expect you will fare well against those like me or the man with flaming hair," he gestured toward Gunther, who grinned with a vicious glint in his eye. Sure, they were in the same situation, but monsters were monsters, and all enemies of the gods that Hrald paid homage to. He would kill them both, given the chance.

"Awww," the other slave - who Gunther now saw seemed to have more than a little Achaean blood in him - said, "I try my best."

The northman slave snorted in contempt. “As an Achaean, your best is my worst.” He said, cracking his knuckles. They made a very impressive series of little pops.

"[Brother, may the gods give you strength, and let us leave this place as free men...]"

Gunther paused when he heard those words, turning at another slave. This one didn’t look altogether from the North, either, but there wasn’t a trace of the Achaean race in his blood, so Hrald was willing to trust him. He knew his language, after all, which was more than what the Imperials Gunther had met so far had done.

“[They have given me all the strength I need, brother,]” He said, grinning. “[May we fight side by side rather than be pitched against each other by these Imperial scum. I would hate to have to kill you.]”

Artyom smiled in relief. The man acknowledged, and accepted him. And called me 'brother' in return... Not many had shown him kindness since he was only a child, in his teens he was treated like a animal, given beatings and tattoos. Such as the one on his lip, and on his chest were several numerals, representing prices for a barter.

"[They have given me all the strength I need, brother.]" The man said, grinning. "[May we fight side-by-side, rather then be pitched against each other by these Imperial scum. I would hate to have to kill you."][/b]

"[Aye, the feeling is mutual. Well, it seems we all are brothers and sisters in chains now, I can only hope I get a chance for freedom, I've yet to taste it."] Elric replied, sitting back down on his bench. "[Do you have a name? Mine is Artyom, I don't tell many that, mainly because of Imperials thinking they want to put my name in their fancy stock books, but you, I like you."] He stated, hopefully he would not need to fight this man, not only did he not want to kill him, but he knew this man would win, his strength was far beyond Artyom's, despite the boy's willpower, from years of taking hits from masters.

"A pleasure indeed to make you ac-" Jack began before Tuukka continued, raising his voice.

"These others are called food." the verrbjorn motioned at the men bickering and arguing about who could kill who. It was a sorry sight for the goblin as he followed the the gesture. To think that where they could be scheming for their collective escape, they instead devolved into this. He had already known that winning them over may be difficult but with Tuukka's classification of them it would be impossible if he agreed to it. But if he had to choose between three humans and one beastman, he would choose the beastman.

"I will share the leftovers with you, perhaps," Tuukka said to the goblin, "as you are the only creature here whom I would give even a claw length of trust to."

Jack frowned, nodded and dropped his previous theatrics. In a more sober tone than his earlier jovial one, he spoke. "I'm grateful for even that sliver of trust. And you're right. It's we against them." He turned, locking eyes with Tuukka. "I plan to escape. Once I got a way to do that, I will remember any kindness to me in the past. Remember that."

"I'm grateful for even that sliver of trust. And you're right. It's we against them. I plan to escape. Once I got a way to do that, I will remember any kindness to me in the past. Remember that."

"You're gonna try to escape?" the Knight sneered "Don't waste your time. You'd better give up any dreams of that. We're slaves now, and I doubt that we'd be able to get out of these cages right now without someone letting us out, unless you can conveniently pick locks or something."

"Don't waste your time. You'd better give up any dreams of that. We're slaves now, and I doubt that we'd be able to get out of these cages right now without someone letting us out, unless you can conveniently pick locks or something."

Tuukka turned to the man who began talking, and let out a roar.

"WERE WE TALKING TO YOU, HUMAN?" he shouted. "DID WE GIVE YOU ANY INKLING THAT WE DESIRED YOUR INPUT TO THIS MATTER?"

Tuukka raised one paw, let his claws be seen and snapped his jaw three times. "I could set you free this instant, you arrogant cub. I could send you to the gods, and you would never fear being chained again."

He paused, and looked the man in the eyes.

"Unless that is what you want, I suggest you leave my friend and I to our discussion. If you interrupt us again, know that I will remove your left arm and use it to beat you to death."

The verrbjorn turned back to Jack, and spoke in a quieter tone. "I will aid you, little goblin. I desire to return to the woods, and not this stinking place. It reeks of man flesh."

While everyone was still taking verbal jabs at each other, a group of armored gladiators walked in - not slaves like them, but paid gladiators working for the School of Valens, the school that owned everyone present.

The armed men opened the cages belonging to Tuukka and Jack, striding inside with their weapons drawn. Both of them knew they were dead if they tried anything - particularly when Tuukka saw the silvery glimmer of one man's blade - but the school could never be too careful when it came to monsters.

"You're up," barked one of the gladiators.

Tuukka and Jack were led out of their cells and down a hall, into a small armory where they were given their usual chosen arms and armor, all the while watched over and occasionally aided by guards and gladiators alike.

Within a few moments, they were led out into the arena. Passing under a pair of tall portcullises, they entered out into the sandy arena. The walls were high and lined by numerous guards and some archers keeping an eye out, and high above them on all sides, a large crowd sat about in the coliseum. It was almost full - no doubt the draw of monsters made quite the turn-out of an audience.

The portcullises behind them slammed shut, and the verrbjorn and goblin were left standing in the arena, weapons in hand... looking at their intimidating opponent.

Intimidating, but pitiful. There, chained in the center of the arena, was a great, fully-grown bear, almost as large as Tuukka himself. It looked frightened and hungry, and it had a massive chain around its neck, affixed to a wooden pole in the middle of the sand pit. The bear grunted and pawed at the chains, letting out a low noise and looking at them. It was starved, but it didn't even look angry - not yet. Right now, it just seemed defensive and scared.

"We bring to you, the battle of the beasts!" shouted a man from the tall box overlooking the coliseum. "A mighty bear, facing off with its cursed and twisted kin - one with a hideous goblin by its side! You may believe this bear to be outmatched - but its ferocity increases tenfold from hunger! Who shall walk away alive?"

The bear, however, hardly looked ready for a fight. It saw Tuukka and Jack standing there, and it paused, watching them, its ears twitching and its eyes alert.

((Next time, I may try to make it work out that all the players are in combat at once, even if the matches are smaller-scale and don't actually take place at the same time. For now, however, it's just Vorgain and Balder in the arena.

Note that this means Artyom, Kendrick, and Gunther are all still in their cells.

Also, sorry if this post was somewhat sub-par. Wrote it during classes due to time constraints, and all that...))

Kendric looked on sadly as the Verrbjorn and Jack were escorted out of the Arena by armed guards. As the portcullis shut behind the two, the Knight cum Gladiator could here the announcer shouting:

"We bring to you, the battle of the beasts! A mighty bear, facing off with its cursed and twisted kin - one with a hideous goblin by its side! You may believe this bear to be outmatched - but its ferocity increases tenfold from hunger! Who shall walk away alive?"

"A Bear?" he groaned "D***it, they're supposed to be good eatin's! And they put up a solid fight, not like other Gladiators."

"I will aid you, little goblin. I desire to return to the woods, and not this stinking place. It reeks of man flesh." Tuukka said after shouting down one of the humans. Jack nodded in silent understanding but before he could respond a group of armored gladiators walked in - not slaves like them, but paid gladiators working for the School of Valens.

With weapons drawn they entered the cells of Jack and Tuukka before escorting them out. Jack knew better than to resist, though he kept an eye on the verrbjorn to see if he would. As he did he spotted the unmistakable sheen of silver, understanding then why Tuukka didn't resist. Unfortunate that our wardens have knowledge of such things. It would have made things so much easier if they'd managed to overlook that particular piece of understanding.

They were taken to an armory where they were given their equipment. Jack was given a standard set of gladiator armor in leather with a steel sword and dagger to go with. Good, the fools are at least not stupid enough to expect me to fight with two swords. That would just be silly, the second blade would just get in the way. A dagger is much better.

Soon they were led to the arena proper. On the way Jack spoke to the verrbjorn: "We need to earn the crowds favor. Should we ever be struck down, having them on our side may save our lives." A breath and he added with a frown on his face, "Or at least I do as I am not built as the mountain."

____

I'm screwed. Jack couldn't help but to think as he first looked from the chained bear in the center of the arena and to his supposed ally. An ally whom seemed to be greatly hesitating in attacking his distant cousin. Oh please, oh please, oh please don't let his bragging of killing kin from earlier be baseless boasting. I'm so screwed if it is.

"Hey, Tuukka." Jack hesitantly spoke up over the roar of the crowd. "I hate to ask it of you... but we're gonna have to kill that bear." He gulped as he looked up to his companion, waiting for his response.

Tuukka shielded his eyes as he walked into the arena, holding his axe in one hand and with a long knife - almost a short sword to an Imperial soldier or northern barbarian - belted across his waist.

Then he heard it. The low grunts and snorts that sounded oddly familiar. Was there another verrbjorn in the pit? Tuukka wondered if it could be Rask, the comrade in arms he had known before his capture.

Once his eyes adjusted to the brightness, he saw he was mistaken. In the center of the pit, chained to a post was a bear. Not a verrbjorn, but a bear that looked hungry and frightened. The noise of the crowd probably confused it more than anything else. It probably wouldn't even advance on Tuukka unless he made the first strike. Jack, on the other hand, looked like food.

"Hey, Tuukka," the goblin said, "I hate to ask it of you... but we're gonna have to kill that bear."

Tuukka grunted. "So we shall," he said. Then he turned to face the crowd, and tossed his axe aside. He could deal with the bear with his claws and the aid of Jack's sword.

"When I get the bear to stand, you must go for the stomach," he instructed the goblin. Then he let out a mighty roar toward the crowd, and dropped to all fours.

He turned back to the bear, and snarled. It was a guttural, deep sound resonating from Tuukka's throat. He snapped his jaw twice, and pawed at the ground.

Then he charged. He planned to force the bear backwards, onto it's hind legs, and hoped he could hold it there long enough for Jack to gut it.

Hopefully Jack could discern between a bear and a bearman, Tuukka thought as he rushed toward the bear.

"[Aye, the feeling is mutual. Well, it seems we all are brothers and sisters in chains now, I can only hope I get a chance for freedom, I've yet to taste it."] Elric replied, sitting back down on his bench. "[Do you have a name? Mine is Artyom. I don't tell many that, mainly because of Imperials thinking they want to put my name in their fancy stock books, but you? I like you."] He stated.

Gunther chuckled, albeit darkly. “[Someone likes me? That’s a first.]” He said, before glancing around at the other prisoners. “[As for being brothers and sisters…]”

"These others are called food." The bear-man was growling, making Gunther snort.

"You're gonna try to escape?" the Achaean slave sneered at the goblin a moment later. "Don't waste your time. You'd better give up any dreams of that. We're slaves now, and I doubt that we'd be able to get out of these cages right now without someone letting us out, unless you can conveniently pick locks or something."

"WERE WE TALKING TO YOU, HUMAN?"The verrbjorn shouted at him in reply. "DID WE GIVE YOU ANY INKLING THAT WE DESIRED YOUR INPUT TO THIS MATTER?"

Gunther shook his head, starting to laugh again, especially as the bear and goblin were dragged off. “[No, we are most certainly not brothers. The monsters would sooner eat our flesh, and he,]” He nodded at the half-Achaean, “[is little better.]” The slave growled, before stepping over to the side of his cage closest to the ‘knight’s’.

“So what happened to you, Imperial?” Hrald asked, leaning against the bars of his cage. “Stole someone’s sweetroll?”